


The Vectors of Loss, Vindication, and (most importantly) Love

by Krisdaughter_of_Athena



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000 years of pining/secret relationship, Angst, Aziraphale and Crowley are Romeo and Juliet but I'm quite fluid with their roles, Character Death, God is referred to as the Almighty frequently, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romeo and Juliet AU, Secret Relationship, ish?? It's more like elements of Romeo and Juliet (especially the ending), little excerpts of scripture in chapter 1, possibly more characters to add, prologue and epilogue will deal bluntly with the themes of loss vindication and love, since that's the title, star crossed lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-06-24 13:58:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19725088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krisdaughter_of_Athena/pseuds/Krisdaughter_of_Athena
Summary: This is not a happy story.It seems only fair that I, the keeper of the Course of Events that had Transpired, warn you. Love is not always happy. It is not always fair. Especially when paired with common accomplices Loss and Vindication, and they were by no means shy in these Events. Though they do not have corporeal bodies, or clear acknowledgment by those that do, they are rarely absent in any Course of Events.These Events, however, are easily entangled in these three alongside heavenly and demonic entities, clashing or embracing as they meet and pass. Perhaps the best word to describe this meeting of Loss, Vindication, Love, and the ethereal beings which they pull along like puppets on strings could be referred to by the mathematical term “vector”.  These Events are referred to many as The Vectors of Loss, Vindication, and (most importantly) Love.





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to ragtags for helping me with the prologue! You were an amazing help!

**“Definition of** **_loss_ **

1:  DESTRUCTION ,  RUIN

**//** to save the world from utter  _ loss _

-John Milton”

(via Merriam-Webster dictionary)

* * *

Loss is usually the first or the last of the three. The one to rip open wounds and tie up endings like strings. It spares none, and brings ruin of some form. Even those of angelic stock can experience loss. If they could not, this would have never transpired, and there would be no Events to recount.

The destruction and separation was predetermined. It had been written, known to all as the Great Plan, supposedly by the Most High. Some of her angels would find that their roles were destined that they would Fall from Her Grace. Among them, the angel known as Lucifer would rule the Fallen. 

Many refused to believe it. She loved them, loved them too much to swiftly cut them away! They couldn't just  _ Fall _ ! They wouldn't! 

Predestination, however, is a curse within itself. It was only a matter of time before Lucifer and his followers found themselves plummeting in a fiery path into a lake of burning sulfur. The previous signs of their angelic identity were burned away until all that was left was something unrecognizable, and purely their new nature:  _ demonic. _

This Loss led to the Vindication of the forces of Hell. She would  _ rue  _ the day that She cast them out. Whether it was knowing or not, the demonic forces followed their roles in the Great Plan, preparing for the Armageddon that was to come.With Armageddon would come the second War, and both sides were convinced they would win. Hate and disdain spurned in both Heaven and Hell for their enemies, so much that it oozed in nearly every terse interaction between angel and demon. 

And yet, in the middle of all of this, the impossible seemed to happen. The smallest seed was planted in two opposing souls. This Love would bloom in the midst of fire and flame, and smudge the ink and rip the pages out of the Great Plan’s book, and change the course of everything we know. 

This story, the real story, begins at the near start of time. It begins where it will end: in a garden. 


	2. Chapter One

Aziraphale, Principality and Angel of the Eastern Gate, loved all of the Almighty’s creations. The Garden was the home of everything beautiful, the large walls protecting everything from the desolation of the outside. He loved the birds that flew above the trees, the lions that liked to rest their heads in his lap in the warm afternoons (he was still trying to understand the concept of time; it was, in fact, new). All creatures great and small could feel the all encompassing power of the angel’s love. Even the standoffish snake curled up on the warmest rock in the garden peered open an eye when the angel passed, the love flowing off in waves. 

But, the creatures he loved most reminded him the most of the Almighty. They were, after all, created in her image. There were only two humans in the Garden, but they knew the angels off all sides, and walked frequently with the Almighty. They were free to do most whatever they wanted to in the garden. There was only one thing they were not to do. 

There was an apple tree in the middle of the Garden. She had commanded the humans to never touch or eat the fruit of that tree. And for so long, it seemed that Adam and Eve were content to follow that command for the rest of time.

Then, one day Aziraphale could feel a disturbance in the Garden. For the first time, he could feel a definite downturn to his lips as he descended from his post into the forest terrain. Nothing seemed out of place, of course. At least, not until he nearly stepped into the hole. Gasping, the angel scrambled back, startled by the unforeseen change in the Garden. He took a quick moment to gather his wits, before he knelt down and peered into the hole. It seemed to descend forever, for even with his sight Aziraphale could not see the end. His fingers scooped up some of the displaced earth, and the faded presence strengthens enough for the angel to sense the aura of one intruder, one quite  _ demonic _ intruder. 

He gasped, and pulled his sword out of its sheath, where it immediately caught flame. One of the Fallen had managed to slip past the angels guarding the gates! That shouldn’t be possible!

But why would they want in here? What could they possibly want to destroy?

There were too many answers to those questions, more than enough for the angel to take off deeper into the Garden. More questions spun in the angel’s mind faster than he could ever run. How would he know what the demon was, if it was disguising as anything? And how would he stop whatever disastrous plan it had hatched? 

The snap seemed to echo throughout the Garden. Now, the sound was not actually very loud at all. At least, not to the humans. However, to every celestial being in the Garden, it boomed to where Aziraphale nearly dropped his sword. He didn’t have to see it to know where the sound came from, and what its consequences entailed. Aziraphale didn’t even have to guess for any of his questions now. 

_ Humans.  _ The demon wanted to kill the humans. 

He was almost to the apple tree now. He broke into a mad sprint, pushing through the brush until if finally parted to show a scene that would have caused his heart to stop had he had one. 

Eve- wonderful, intelligent Eve- held an apple in the palm of her hand. Even from his angle, the angel could tell a bite had already been taken out of it. The first woman of creation was holding it out to the first man, who watched it for a long moment. Wordlessly, he took the fruit, bringing it to his mouth. 

“Adam, no!” Aziraphale hurried forward to stop them. Eve may have already ate from the forbidden fruit, but maybe if he could stop Adam, the humans could still be saved. 

And yet, as if the angel hadn’t spoken at all, Adam didn’t respond, and took a bite. His eyes closed, and Aziraphale froze. Maybe...maybe nothing would happen. Eating from the tree did grant the knowledge of Good and Evil, but maybe they ate the wrong apple from a perfectly allowed tree in the Garden. 

Adam opened his eyes suddenly, gaze shooting straight to Aziraphale. His eyes were wide, and Eve gasped. She suddenly took refuge in her husband’s body, trying to hide herself. 

“Don’t look at us!” Eve pleaded with the angel, who stood frozen in shock. Adam pulled Eve close, one hand going to cover his... _ oh _ …

The humans exchanged a glance before taking off into the brush, which started Aziraphale back into motion. “Wait!” He called after them, but when he pushed back the brush, they were gone. His shoulders slump with a defeated sigh, sword pointing towards the ground. The Almighty will know soon enough. Aziraphale will have to report what she will already know: that that which had been created in her image had been tempted by a demon, ate from the forbidden tree, and were now lost forever. 

As he turns to begin the path to the Almighty, he feels a gaze on him from the trees. He turned and cast his gaze up, surprised to meet a pair of yellow eyes in the dim shade. The snake, the one that always rested on the warmest rock in the Garden, was watching him. This time, though, the angel could feel the darker force pulling at his aura.  _ The Tempter. _

However, before he could say a word, the snake blinked away, and slithered out of sight. 

* * *

Aziraphale, Principality and Angel of the Eastern Gate, watched from his post, wringing his hands as his mind tread the path of the past few hours. 

It had not taken the Almighty long to enter the Garden. She called out for her humans, though She already knew where they were. It was only minutes before Adam and Eve had revealed themselves, and all began to unravel. 

_ “ _ **_Who told you that you were naked?_ ** **”** _ He remembered the Almighty asking.  _ **_“Have you eaten from the tree whose fruit I commanded you not to eat?”_ **

**_“_ ** _ It was Eve who gave me the fruit, and I ate it.”  _

_ Unlike the other angels, Aziraphale could not look at Adam after he had said that.  _

_ The Almighty turned to the woman She had created, and a horror had slipped into Her voice.  _ **_“What have you done?”_ **

_ “It was the serpent!” She pointed into the trees. There, the snake froze in its place, staring straight back at all beings who had looked up at Eve’s pointing finger. “It deceived me. That’s why I ate it.”  _

__ _ Under the Almighty’s gaze, the demon slithered down from the trees into plain sight, looking quite small compared to the Almighty (and the demon was no small serpent to begin with).  _

__ **_“Because you have done this,”_ ** _ She began,  _ **_“you are cursed more than all animals, domestic and wild. You will crawl on your belly, groveling in the dust as long as you live.”_ ** _ Beneath her gaze, the demon began to twist, giving a quite uncharacteristic cry for a snake. It sounded more like the angels would sound should they have ever felt the need to scream, but it did remind those beings of the screams of the Fallen. It was fitting, of course, considering the scream came from one of the Fallen. The Almighty continued with the demon until she found it fitting, and turned towards Eve. As She spoke to Eve in the same ominous and overpowering tone, before turning to Adam, the demon stopped screaming, curled in on itself. Their form was shaking as if it would fall apart, and steaming as if they would burst into flame. Perhaps both were truly possible, but once the demon gathered its bearings, it fled unpursued into the Garden _ . 

The Almighty had left soon after, all righteous fire gone from Her voice and Her eyes as she quietly banished Adam and Eve from the Garden. And now, Aziraphale watched alone as the humans left. His being ached, but there was nothing more he could do for the creation he so deeply loved. 

There were clouds gathering, he noted. He had never seen these before, never clouds so dark and looming. They must mirror how the Almighty is feeling. 

Among all of this, though, he could hear...something else. The only word he could think of to describe the sound is  _ slithering _ , and that thought alone forced Aziraphale to decide to not look away from the skyline. Perhaps, if he didn’t look at the demon, he would not be forced to confront them. He didn’t have his sword, and while he could easily smite the other creature, the day was already trying enough without having to call on such a power. 

Out of the corner of his eye, the snake rose from the ground, to where they were nearly taller than Aziraphale. Despite everything in him screaming for him to stare straight ahead, he turned his head at the sound of something shifting to see the black scales hide away into skin covered by black robes. The reptilian face began to morph into something...more recognizable. Something almost human-like, like Aziraphale himself. 

Aziraphale had heard many stories and descriptions of the Fallen. It was said that most were burned all over from their Fall into the burning lake of sulphur, faces bid unrecognizable to anyone. Their eyes were supposed to be as dark as the bottomless pits of Hell, and any angel would cringe at the sight of a demon. 

Aziraphale did not cringe. In fact, he wondered if any of those stories were actually true. 

How could they be true when the Tempter of Eden was ...well,  _ beautiful _ . 

The wind gently brushed through the long scarlet ringlets of the demon’s hair, and helped to open his dark wings. He took a deep breath, and spoke: “Well, that went down like a lead balloon.”

Aziraphale found himself chuckling, before realizing he had not actually registered a word the demon said. “Sorry,” he blinked, “what was that?” 

The demon looked to him. Strange. He still had those yellow reptilian eyes. “I said, ‘Well, that went down like a lead balloon.’”

The angel nodded, pushing down these odd observations. They were entirely  _ unhelpful  _ at this point in time. “Yes, yes, it did, rather.” 

“Bit of an overreaction, if you ask me.” Aziraphale had not asked at all, but the demon did not seem to care. “First offence and everything.”

Aziraphale glanced to him to find him deep in thought, brow furrowing as he looked out to the sand. After a moment, he looked to the angel again. “...I can’t see what’s so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil anyway.”

The angel refused to think any further on the demon’s statement. It was probably to try and create doubt in him anyways. “Well, it must be bad….” He broke off when he had gone to address the demon, only to have no name at all.

“Crawley.” The demon supplied. 

“...Crawley.” Aziraphale repeated. Fitting, he thought, since the Almighty had cursed him to crawl the earth only earlier that day. He gave a short, nervous chuckle. “Otherwise...you wouldn’t have tempted them into it.” 

Crawley shrugged. “Oh, they just, ‘Get up there and make some trouble’.”

And trouble he made, Aziraphale thought as he gave the demon an uneasy once-over. “Well, obviously. You’re a demon. It’s what you do.” 

The angel quickly averted his gaze, but the demon didn’t seem to care. He was lost in his own thoughts aloud. 

“Not very subtle of the Almighty, though. Fruit tree in the middle of a garden with a ‘Don’t Touch’ sign. I mean…” He fumbled for words for a second, and Aziraphale could feel the unease at this conversation rising within him. “Why not put it on the top of a high mountain? Or on the moon?” He looked to the angel, perhaps expecting an answer. When he didn’t even get a glance from Aziraphale, he continued. “Makes you wonder what God’s really planning.”

Every bit of that statement was as if both of them were stepping on thin ice. Between the questions of the Almighty’s plan so boldly stated, and the plain use of Her true name, one that even angels used only in the most holy of circumstances, made the angel feel as if the ice would break beneath them at any moment. 

“Best not to speculate.” Crawley hardly seemed amused, perhaps even unimpressed. “It’s all part of the Great Plan. It’s not for us to understand.” Aziraphale paused for a moment, searching for a word to describe the Great Plan. “It’s ineffable.”

The demon now seemed confused and even less impressed. “The Great Plan’s ineffable?” 

“Exactly.” He tried to ignore the way Crawley seemed to have lost interest in the conversation and was now  _ actually  _ looking him over, and continued his explanation. “It is beyond understanding and incapable of being put into words-”

“Didn’t you have a flaming sword?”

The words died in Aziraphale’s throat at Crawley’s sudden question, quickly looking away. “Uh…”

“ _ You did _ !” Crawley assured himself. “It was flaming like anything. What happened to it?” 

“Uh…” Aziraphale shook his head and tried to look anywhere but at the demon, hoping his answer came off as noncommittal. The enemy didn’t deserve to know. Best to keep them on their toes in case Crawley is trying to lower his defenses. 

“Lost it already, have you?” 

The angel looked down, all plans of remaining guarded failing. “Gave it away.” 

“You  _ what? _ ”

“I gave it away!” Aziraphale couldn’t stop himself from looking at Crawley, couldn’t stop the dam from falling apart and allow his emotions to rush through. “There are vicious animals. It’s going to be cold out there! And she’s expecting already! And I said, ‘Here you go. Flaming sword. Don’t thank me. And don’t let the sun go down on you here.’” 

Crawley didn’t say a word. Perhaps if the angel had looked over, he would have seen the wide eyes of the demon...he almost looked  _ impressed _ . 

“I do hope I didn’t do the wrong thing.” Aziraphale fretted, unknowing over of the other’s gaze. 

“Oh, you’re an angel.” Crawley assured, in his odd way. “I don’t think you can do the wrong thing.” 

Despite this statement coming from a demon, Aziraphale relaxed. “Oh, oh, thank- oh, thank you.” He sighed in relief. “It’s been bothering me.”

The roar of a lion caught the attention of both celestial beings, who turned to watch as Adam unsheathed the sword between the creature and Eve. 

“I’ve been worrying, too.” Crawley said as they watched. “What if I did the right thing with the whole ‘eat the apple’ business?”

Aziraphale’s brow furrowed. How could he think that? The Almighty had punished him for such an act! That could be further from the right thing than anything!

But Crawley sounded serious as he continued. “A demon can get into a lot of trouble for doing the right thing.” 

In the desert, Adam killed the lion with a final blow, and Aziraphale frowned. 

“It’d be funny if we both got it wrong, eh?” He looked to Crawley, who grinned as continued such suggestions. “If I did the good thing and you did the bad one.” 

He began to laugh, and Aziraphale uneasily joined in. Quickly, though, he remembered his status, his role in the Great Plan. 

“No.” He sobered within seconds. “It wouldn’t be funny at all!” 

“Well…” Crawley gave a miniscule shrug at that, but said nothing more. His attention was drawn away from the conversation and upward as the dark clouds let go of their contents. The water hit both angel and demon, the former watching it with an odd sort of fascination. As the first storm began to pick up, the angel could feel the rain hitting the top of his head, and decided to unfurl his left wing. Perhaps Crowley was not such a threat, and the demon seemed to further prove this conclusion when he stepped underneath Aziraphale’s wing, and merely joined him as he watched the first of humanity grow father and farther away from the Garden, until they were merely a speck on the skyline. 


	3. Chapter Two

After the rain came a downpour, the first storm. Throughout the entire night, the clouds boomed as if they would give out and crush the earth, flashes of light reminding Crawley of daytime. His wide eyes watched through the shaking leaves as the sky lit up each time, the wind and thunder shaking the trees. The demon did not move, too weary. His wings ached, burning as they had when he Fell, but he had already checked and they weren’t on fire. Rather, as time went on after having stood with that angel on the wall, they began to feel heavier, dragging him down as he walked, as if his wings would tether him to the earth. Maybe they had, given God’s curse over him earlier. That was the most direct thing to him; every other part he could only interpret as coded prophecy, passing through him like a messenger and straight to his master. 

“Guess I deserved that.” Muttered the demon. Thunder boomed in response. 

An odd feeling had settled in his bones after he had huddled under the tree for shelter. Similar to the heaviness of his wings, it made him wish to go limp without even returning to his serpentine form. He could not do that, that would leave him exposed should any of the angels come looking for him. So instead, he hung his head and sighed as his palms dug into his eyes and his mind wandered to the angels. Well, one angel in particular. 

The Angel of the Eastern Gate had...not been what he expected. The other guardians, and the archangels that had joined God at the confrontation of humanity were cold, and had barely spared the demon a second glance, even in his suffering. Of course, they had seen it as justice (and maybe it was, Crawley thought bitterly), but when the pain had eased, he had glanced up and that angel had been watching him. Crawley had tried to not think long about whatever emotions had danced in the angel’s eyes before he had fled into the Garden. But now, now he could distinctly remember the horror in those wide eyes, and one other emotion that has never been reserved for demons:  _ sympathy _ . He had known that Aziraphale was the angel renowned through the Garden for visiting all of creation, loving each and every one fiercely. However,  _ sympathy  _ was hardly something he could have suspected from an angel, even Aziraphale, knowing that one of the Garden’s inhabitants had been a demon. That was simply unheard of. 

Even more unheard of was their later interaction on the wall. First off, the angel should have smited the demon at first sight, Crawley had no doubt those were his orders. But he hadn’t. In fact, he had even indulged the demon in conversation! That would have been considered  _ fraternizing  _ in anyone else’s eyes. And then the angel had given his flaming sword to those humans, without a second thought! Of course, he had fretted after, wondering if he had done the right thing. 

Crawley’s response had been true, even to a small fraction of a degree. How could an angel, especially one so kind, loving, full of light and  _ beautiful- _

_ Beautiful!?  _ The demon’s thoughts skidded to a stop at that.  __ Where the hell had that come from? Angels were meant to be the more attractive creatures, especially when compared to demons, but why couldn’t he get the way the sun above had adorned the angel’s white curls out of his mind? Why did he keep imagining Aziraphale’s eyes, pulling him in like a ship on troubled seas as he hurried to explain his actions to the demon of all creatures? Why did he want to see that rare, careless smile again-?

No. No, he couldn’t. He was not to make an angel happy! He was supposed to prepare for their downfall, take glee in imagining their anguish, not their happiness! He growled in frustration, hands curling his hair. The wind howled around him, and Crawley had the sudden urge to scream right back. 

He shouldn’t. He had to regain control, or he would be caught! When the storm settled, he would leave the Garden, he promised himself. It was the only way to get the angel out of sight and out of mind for the rest of eternity, should he be so lucky. 

* * *

When the storm had forced itself into an exhausted submission, and the sun rose, Crawley did not leave the Garden. No angels stormed into the brush searching for him. No voice of God boomed out, pulling him out of his hiding spot. Rather, the sun rose in silence over the wall, slowly followed by the birds and their early chirpings. 

Crawley squinted as he stepped out from his hiding place, eyes aching in the bright light. He immediately averted his gaze from the sky, searching for shadows to cling to. That was easier, and it kept him out of sight. 

Despite his mulling the night before, Crawley could not bring himself to leave the Garden. Even with the high security and his worryingly obsessive thoughts over one of those angels, mornings like this pushed the tension out of his shoulders, slowed his racing thoughts to make his slow walk among the trees. He rather liked it here. The longer he could stay out of sight, the more content he would be. After all, Satan nor any other demon could reach him here for a new assignment, not anymore. He could at least have a few days reprieve.

And if his eyes searched for a familiar face as he lurked in the shadows...well, no one had to know, right? 

His wings still felt heavy as he walked, and when he paused to stretch, he scrambled for a handhold as he found himself bowling over backwards. He cried out without thinking as he landed on his wings, even the small fall causing his wings to ache. He hurriedly covered his mouth at the sound, going still as he searched for any noise, any alarm. When moments passed in silence, he rolled himself over onto his stomach, grabbing at the nearest tree limb and pulling himself. He sighed as he stood again, still holding onto the tree as he searched for his new center of balance. He set his feet shoulder width apart, and slowly let go as he felt that the pull of his wings was smaller. He couldn’t help a small smirk of victory as he dusted off his robes. 

He froze, however, at the sound of footsteps noticed too late. They stopped, and Crawley wondered what his last sight would be before he was smited out of the Garden as he chanced a glance up. He found himself unable to look away as he met Aziraphale’s eyes across the clearing. He wanted to hide into the shadows, out of the angel’s surprised gaze, but he found himself unable to move. For a long moment, it seemed the angel was in the same predicament. Then, he smiled. 

“Hello, Crawley! Enjoying a nice walk as well?”

“Uh...y-yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Yep. ‘Course.”

“How wonderful!” He looked around the clearing, beginning to frown. “Were you the one that made that noise?”

“What noise? No noise here.” Crawley ‘eloquently' lied. “Perhaps it was a bird.” 

“Oh, I sure hope they’re okay.” There he goes again, fretting and wringing his hands. “They sounded injured.”

“I’m sure they’re fine.” Crawley found himself immediately saying, hoping to ease that look on his face. What was he even  _ doing _ ? 

“I hope so.” Aziraphale sighed, but closed his eyes and shook his head. Soon, a smile had reappeared, trying very hard to be sincere amidst the remains of worry. “Would you like to join me?”

Crawley stole a glance around, the spell finally breaking enough to take a step back. “Wouldn’t someone notice?”

“Well, they shouldn’t. None of them come into the Garden unless they have to, especially not at this time in the day.” 

“Oh. Right.” Why hadn’t he realized that until yesterday, he had never actually  _ seen  _ any other angels in the Garden? 

“So, would you like to join me? I can’t say I’ve ever had someone accompany me on my morning walks.”

The demon tried to pass the odd feeling festering within him with a nonchalant shrug. “Got nothing better to do.” 

For this, Crawley found himself rewarded with a genuine smile as the angel waited for him before they walked in silence. It was far from uneasy, as the angel was looking into each and every tree, searching for the birds, and the demon simply watched him. Anytime the angel would glance in his direction, he would act as if he was examining a rock, or glaring at a tree. And maybe Crawley was seeing things if he thought he caught a fond smile on the angel’s face before he looked away again. 

* * *

After some time, they found themselves at the eastern wall. Aziraphale sighed. 

“Well, this is usually where my walk ends, and I return to my post.”

“Oh.” Crawley tried to mask the disappointment in his voice unsuccessfully. 

“Well...there is a nice view of the sunrise from my post.” Aziraphale glanced up the wall. “If you want, I’m sure we could watch the sunrise for at least a few moments. And don’t worry,” The angel seemed to have misinterpreted the demon’s squint up at the top of the wall, “you won’t be seen. Angels don’t travel to each other’s posts.”

“Uh...right.” The demon hasn’t tried to fly in the past day. Would he even be able to get off the ground with all this weight? 

Aziraphale didn’t notice his turmoil, opening his wings before taking to the skies. Crawley watched him for a long moment. The angel seemed so free so far from the ground, framed just perfectly by the early morning rays. He looked back down to the demon on the ground. “Well? Are you coming?”

“Yeah...yeah, hold on.” Crawley glanced back to his wings as he opened them up. He willed them to flap once as he gave a small jump, but his feet hit the ground again, his wings not catching air. He tried again, only to be met with the same results. He growled under his breath, aware that the angel was watching him. He shook his head, and took a couple steps back. Perhaps a running start would help. 

He shook his shoulders with a deep breath, before running towards the wall. 

“Crawley-”

But Crawley wasn’t listening. He leaped, forcing his wings out. They caught air, and Crawley couldn’t help his near hysterical laugh. He flapped them once, and his laugh broke off as he was thrown off balance. “Whoa!” 

“Crawley-!”

The demon tried to balance with his wings, but he was becoming more and more aware of the weight attached to his shoulders. Flying had never been this exhausting, and yet he found himself panting for air he didn’t even need as he beat his wings rapidly, only to be met with rapidly shrinking success. The weight pulled him onto his back, towards the earth. He couldn’t even bring himself to scream as the angel shot down towards him, reaching for his hand. Their fingers brushed, but Aziraphale’s hand grasped nothing as Crawley hit the earth to elicit a sharper version of the pained cry he had given from his earlier fall. Crawley heard Aziraphale land, so soft compared to his pained breathing and the roars of pain throughout his entire body. 

“Are you all right-?”

The mere touch of the angel sent Crawley squirming back out of the curled position he had resorted to in his pain. His back painfully met a tree, and he hissed at the pain and the anger building inside of him. 

“I’m fine!” He snapped. Aziraphale froze at the sudden movement, but then hmphed at that. 

“I should think not! That was a nasty fall. Are you sure you’re not hurt? Is there something wrong with your wings?” 

Aziraphale reached towards the black feathers, and Crawley instantly shied away. “ _ Don’t _ .” 

The angel obeyed, withdrawing his hand, watching the demon fight back his shaking with small hisses through his teeth. 

“Crawley, if there’s something wrong with your wings, I would like to check-”

“There’s nothing wrong with them.” He said finally. He couldn’t look at Aziraphale, electing instead to stare at his lap. “That’s the problem.”

When the angel said nothing, he continued. “E-ever since yesterday, my wings have felt...heavy. I never noticed the weight before, but now it’s unbearable. When I stand, I nearly fall again because I’m off balance. It’s exhausting to even open them. I...I had been hoping I could still fly...but  _ She  _ had to take that away from me.”

The angel looked pained. “Surely you don’t think-”

“I don’t think.  _ I know. _ She cursed me to this!” Crawley leaned forward, voice raising. “ ‘You are cursed among all animals! You will crawl on your belly, groveling in the sand as long as you live!’ Bet you thought that was real clever, _ huh _ ?!” He screamed at the sky. The birds fled the nearby tree at the sound, and Aziraphale flinched, head snapping around to search their surroundings. When they’re still left alone, he returned his gaze to the shaking creature, who was searching the sky with eyes that suddenly seemed to glisten. 

“I...I’m so sorry. I didn’t know-”

“You didn’t know.” Crawley scoffed. “Of course you didn’t. You were there, for god’s sake!”

“Language.” The angel chided despite himself, earning himself a glare from the demon. He sighed, and pulled in his wings until they were gone from sight. “I truly am sorry. I can’t even imagine what you are going through.”

Crawley was the one who didn’t answer, so Aziraphale continued. “I know it will not be easy for you. I can’t as if I will have all the answers, but if you need anything, I am here.”

Aziraphale slowly stood, brushing himself and shaking himself to get used to the feeling of hiding his wings. He reached down to Crawley, holding his hand out. Crawley stared at the hand, before looking up cautiously to Aziraphale. After an examination of what feels like hours, Crawley took his hand. Aziraphale let himself smile softly, and pulled the demon up to his feet. He didn’t let go of his hand, and Crawley found he didn’t mind. His hand was warm; grounding him in a different way than his wings did. Without any words, they walked on in silence, the angel never letting go, and the demon refusing to break the hold. 

Crawley sniffed after some time, and Aziraphale stole a glance over to find Crawley looking at him. 

“Thank you.” The demon- no,  _ Crawley _ \- murmured, then looked away. He’s surprised when the angel-  _ Aziraphale _ \- squeezed his hand. 

“Of course. It’s the least I can do.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone reading! This is my first fic for Good Omens, so don't be afraid to let me know what you think!
> 
> Also, I know it was like ten days so it took a while to get this, but I figured I should let you know that these next few weeks are going to be crazy and I'm technically supposed to be working on a different story so I'm not sure if I'll get a chapter out in that time, but I will certainly try!
> 
> Thanks again for reading!


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kudos and comments on the last chapter! I'm so glad to know you're enjoying the story so far! Hope you enjoy this next one!

There were many more mornings similar to that first. They avoided flying, of course, and Aziraphale hoped he was being subtle enough about it that Crawley wouldn’t notice that he kept his wings folded back as they walked, and never took to the air until after his companion was long gone. 

It wasn’t easy, by any means. Despite what he said about no other angel entering the Garden, he couldn’t help but glance back each time he heard the smallest sound, whether it be a bird taking flight or a small sigh from Crawley. A start at the latter earned Aziraphale a side glance, but surprisingly nothing more. 

Instead of confronting the angel on his jumpiness, the two talked of everything and nothing. Aziraphale didn’t really discuss Heaven on any sort of scale. Rather, he recounted his discussions with the animals of the Garden. They were all on edge after the humans were kicked out, and some of their companions had followed out after them. 

“And I agree that it is much too dangerous to travel out of the Garden. I felt terribly sorry about sending out Adam and Eve, but they will be safe. But that lion...I’m sorry the other creatures had caught sight of that. It’s not safe for them out there.”

Crawley hummed at that. Not out of agreement, but he didn’t disagree either. 

“Perhaps the Almighty will leave the Garden be for the animals. The birds, the fish and the land animals, they haven’t done anything  _ wrong _ …” He broke off, realizing how close he was to blasphemy. 

“And if She doesn’t?” Crawley questioned, honing in on the hesitance in the angel (dare he call him  _ friend _ ) with a dangerous curiosity. 

“Well...well then it must be apart of the Ineffable Plan.” 

“Sending the innocent into almost certain death is part of the Plan-?”

Aziraphale shushed him, head snapping around to search the trees. They were alone; not even the birds were sitting in the trees. Crawley searched with him for a long moment, before his serpentine eyes slowly roved back to the angel. 

“Aziraphale...no one’s going to see us. You said that yourself.”

“I know what I said. I just...I worry.” Not a very angelic thing to do, he knew that. But something inside him was tense, ready to pounce everytime he so much thought of his one true companion in the Garden. Perhaps it didn’t help that every thought was traced with the way the sun touched Crawley’s hair and made it shine like a flame, or how his eyes no longer sized him up as if he were a threat, but focused on him with such an intensity that the angel couldn’t bear himself to look away from…

The tension was growing in his chest again, tightening as Crawley chuckled softly with a small grin. 

“You worry too much.” He put a hand on his shoulder, and Aziraphale tried not very hard not to tense. He knew Crawley wasn’t a threat, he had proved that much in the mere days they’ve known each other. Yet he knew that wasn’t why he was tense. It had more to do with this... _ feeling _ curled up in the very core of his being. 

_ Relax _ ...he told himself, and was surprised that with a deep breath, it obeyed. 

“I suppose you’re right.” He said finally, letting his hands relax at his sides. Crawley had already seemed to remove his hand, and looked away at Aziraphale’s comment. The angel couldn’t help but watch as Crawley carefully bent down next to a tree. One hand went out and grabbed the bark to help him balance, but the other...perhaps he thought Aziraphale wouldn’t see what he was doing from his angle as he reached out to the wilting flower at the base of the tree. At his touch, the flower began to straighten, color returning where it had begun to fade. 

Aziraphale couldn’t tell whether or not Crowley had to hide a smile before he turned back around to face the angel. All he knew was that the frown on Crowley’s face grew at the sight of him. “What?”

Aziraphale’s smile, though not infectious, refused to disappear from his face. “You are not anything like other demons.”

“You don’t know that. I doubt you’ve met very many.” 

“No, I don’t suppose I have.” Aziraphale agreed softly, before continuing at a normal volume. “But I have heard stories…”

“And?”

“Well, demons aren’t really known for being...kind, are they? And yet here you are, being so-”

“ _ Kind _ ?” Crawley spat, eyebrows raising almost perpostuously. “I’m not  _ kind _ !” He snapped, and the flower lost all color and wilted to where the petals nearly brushed the ground. 

“Now,  _ really _ .” Aziraphale scolded as he approached the tree as well. He shot a look to Crawley as he knelt and revived the flower. “There’s no need to be so cruel. It hasn’t even done anything to you!”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m a demon! It’s in my nature to be cruel, to whatever may or may not deserve it!” He stormed past Aziraphale, stopping at the other end of the clearing, near the wall. “That’s something you have to learn about demons. When all you’ve known is cruelty, just or not, you stop caring whether or not something  _ deserved  _ it. It didn’t matter  _ then _ , so why should it now?” 

Aziraphale hesitated at the trees, watching his friend’s ram-rod spine, his wings pulling his shoulders back. After a pregnant silence, Aziraphale crossed the clearing, each miniscule detail of Crawley coming into sharper focus. With a hesitance, he reached out, and placed his hand on Crawley’s shoulder. He tensed almost violently, but before Aziraphale could remove his hand, Crawley relaxed slightly, and turned his head to look at the angel’s hand. 

“You say that.” Aziraphale finally spoke softly, gently. “But I don’t think that’s you. Not truly.”

When Crawley didn’t respond, Aziraphale continued. “I will admit, perhaps you are not always the  _ kindest _ . But you do have your moments. I believe that flower was the first time I had ever actually seen you act that way; it’s out of character for you.”

“Maybe you’re wrong. You don’t know me at all.” Is all Crawley said, before pulling out of Aziraphale’s grasp.

“Crawley-” His hand was still reached out as he watched Crawley storm off, not even looking back once. Finally, his arm dropped to his side, and the feeling in his chest grew tight before relaxing in a way that left a bitter taste in his mouth. 

* * *

After that rather disastrous morning, Aziraphale decided it would be best to return to his post on the wall. The Garden had become too quiet after their argument, as if sated in the following awkwardness. 

His post was by no means any better, though. It was just as silent, save for the whistling wind as he stared out at the desolate sand. Adam and Eve were long gone, the corpse of the lion was slowly rotting away. No one, angel or any animal (and certainly not the only demon), dare step outside the Garden’s walls to take care of the body of the lion (for all anyone knew, the next creature to step out could meet the same fate), but Aziraphale wished he didn’t have to stare at it. It only reminded him of his worries, which only circled back to his conversation with Crawley which, well...it seemed to go in circles. 

Maybe he should have forced the demon out of the Garden by now. After all, he was the Temptor, and any other angel would have smote the demon out of the Garden- if not out of existence- at first sight. And yet, he couldn’t. He knows it’s his duty, but he couldn’t do that to  _ Crawley _ . 

Oh, now he was growing  _ sentimental!  _ He shouldn’t, not for a demon! They were fallen, incapable of understanding virtues such as love, justice, mercy…

But...but Crawley was different.Perhaps the demon couldn’t love, but whatever truce had been struck between them could be considered mercy since Aziraphale had no means to defend himself, and yet Crawley never struck. No, Crawley was angry, but it stemmed from his hurt. He wished he could understand all of his hurt. He wished he was here now, so he could try and just  _ understand _ …

A rock was misplaced and tumbled down from the wall. Aziraphale blinked at the sound. At some point, the sun had begun to set and was now behind him. Goodness, had he been lost in thought for that long? 

He didn’t get to dwell on that for too long, as another rock tumbled and Aziraphale realized he could hear something grunting. His frown grew as he knelt and leaned out over the edge of the wall to see the figure dangling just below him. As if he could sense him, Crawley looked up and gave a nervous chuckle. “Hey Aziraphale…” 

“Crawley!” He stole a glance around, then lowered his voice. “What are you doing?”

“Coming to see you.” He gave a half-hearted shrug as if to say ‘ _ obviously _ ’. 

“How?”

“Well…” Crawley grunted as he pulled himself up. His bare feet were struggling to find placement. “There’s more than one way up a wall.” He began to pull himself up with shaking arm, then cried out when his arms wouldn’t cooperate and he began to lose his grip. 

Aziraphale’s hand shot out and this time grabbed onto his wrist before he could fall out of his reach. He grunted as he slowly stood and pulled Crawley onto the wall. Once his feet were on the top of the wall, Crawley scrambled to his feet, hurriedly brushing the dirt off himself 

“You didn’t have to do that.” Aziraphale rolled his eyes at that with a small tut, and let go of Crawley’s wrist. As soon as he did, though, Crawley reached for his hand and took it in a sure grip. When the angel looked up to him, he couldn’t no longer meet his gaze. “I...sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Aziraphale didn’t pull out of the grip. It was surprisingly...comfortable. 

Crawley sighed deeply. “I’m sorry for all that I said earlier. None of it was your fault, so I shouldn’t have dumped it on you.” 

Aziraphale nodded, and squeezed his hand as he stepped closer. “Look at me.” 

It was a gentle request, but Crawley couldn’t protest as he met the angel’s gaze. His blue eyes reminded him of the rain from the first day they met, right before the storm raged. “Do you really believe all of that?” 

Crawley shrugged, and began to look away. Aziraphale cupped his face with his free hand, turning his head to face him again. Now, Crawley’s eyes exposed everything he had been desperate to hide. He didn’t even have to answer, and Aziraphale’s gaze grew pained. 

“I’m sorry you feel that way. I wish everyone could see you the way I see you: strong. Sarcastic, but still caring and fair. Beautiful.”

Crawley’s gaze flicked up to him at that, but now it was Aziraphale’s turn to avert his gaze. He could feel the crimson heat over taking his face in what must be the most horrifying shades, but Crawley was silent for the longest time. 

“Aziraphale…” Crawley finally spoke when Aziraphale decided it was best to slowly remove his hand from his face. 

The angel froze, finally stealing a glance up. “Yes?”

“...Would you like to watch the stars with me?”

That, of all things was not what the angel expected. He blinked, hard. “What?” 

“I said,” Crawley took a deep breath, “would you-”

“Yes.” It had finally sunk in, and it was Crawley’s turn to blink at Aziraphale, who gave the former a reassuring smile. “I would love to.”

It took another moment for it to sink in. When it did, Crawley’s anxious frown slowly curved upward. “I know just the place.” 

* * *

The ‘place’ was actually not that far from the wall at all. Crawley led him by the hand through a small pathway between the trees into an all familiar clearing. 

“Here we are.” Crawley sighed as he settled onto the ground. His favorite sunning rock was nearby, and he leaned back into it. Aziraphale settled on the other side of the rock and found himself leaning against it, leaning closer to Crawley. He looked up, and his jaw dropped in wonder.

“Oh…” Of course, he had a view from his post where he had spent every night so far. But it could nowhere compare to this reclined view, where stars and galaxies splayed out above them. He stole a glance over to Crawley to find him looking up with the same awe he felt, along with another emotion he couldn’t quite recognize on his friend’s face. “They’re beautiful.” 

Crawley nodded in agreement. “This is my favorite place in the Garden. In the day, I can sun here, and at night, I can see the stars.”

“I would have to agree on this spot. I didn’t know they could look so beautiful. Of course, the angels created them, so of course they’re beautiful-”

“I know.” Crawley said finally, not taking his gaze off the stars. “I helped make them.” 

Aziraphale forgot about the stars for just a moment as his gaze snapped to Crawley in amazement. “You did?”

Crawley nodded. “Before the Fall, obviously. I can name each star I created by name. Even on nights where everything seems hopeless, the stars remind me of better times. They bring me peace more than She.”

Aziraphale wanted to ask about the Fall. What had Crawley done to Fall from Her Grace? However, at the distant look in Crawley’s eyes, he decided to forego the question. 

“You did a wonderful job.” He said finally, returning his attention to the stars. “They’re beautiful. I know the humans were fascinated with them, and I have no doubt that future generations will be the same.” 

Crawley didn’t answer. Aziraphale heard him shift next to him, and when he turned he found himself meeting the other’s gaze. His eyes seemed to glow in the dark, wide and mysterious. 

“The humans…” Crawley started, eyes flicking away for a mere moment before he seemed to gather his strength, and his gaze returned. “The humans did something that fascinated me. I saw them one day, and it made them happy.”

“Oh?” Aziraphale could only find himself able to murmur that one word as Crawley continued. 

“I was wondering...you know, since it made them happy, if it would do the same for us. If you were willing to try.” He hurried to add. 

The tension was back again. It was curling so tight in his chest he could hardly speak. What was happening? 

“Okay.” He managed finally. 

Crawley’s eyes searched him for a moment longer. He slowly leaned forward, eyes shut as their lips met. 

Aziraphale, though a tad oblivious, was not stupid. He had seen the humans do this as well, and he understood what it meant, especially with what soon followed once or twice. Love was possible between humans, and it was possible for angels to love all of creation, but was it possible for Crawley to love him? 

He didn’t think about any of this as soon as their lips met. In fact all he could think about was the warmth like starlight; not enough to burn, but enough. The feeling had squeezed inside him at their kiss, but relaxed. It revealed itself not as a cornered creature waiting to strike, but rather as a flower that had taken root and was now beginning to bloom, sending warmth from the top of Aziraphale’s head to his feet. His eyes slowly closed as well, and the starlight manifested behind his eyelids, and he stopped thinking. No need to think, not when you could simply  _ be  _ in this moment. 

Angels and demons have no need to breathe, but they still broke apart long enough for any human to gasp in a short breath before the reconnected. At some point their hands had become untangled, which left Aziraphale free to cup Crawley’s face, gently pushing back his hair as the starlight in both combined, and the seeds within them began to bloom…

Aziraphale’s eyes snapped open at the burning heat that brushed by his face and the ungodly scream from Crawley. He could only watch as Crawley was thrown off his feet, through the trees with enough force to snap them in half, before slamming a hole into the wall, where rocks tumbled and the wall barely managed to stay upright with the large hole now in the center of it. 

“Crawley!” He scrambled to his feet to hurry after his friend. Not only must that have hurt his back (oh lord, his  _ wings _ ), but now he was in the desert, in the worst of danger-!

“Not. So. Fast.” Aziraphale froze at the voice, and shoulders rose to his ears as he slowly turned back to the two Archangels towering above him. Michael’s gaze pinned him to the ground, and though their voice was level, Aziraphale could feel the shaking rage in their aura. 

“M-Michael. Gabriel…” 

“Aziraphale.” Michael said flatly. “What were you doing with that demon?” 

* * *

When the sun rose, Aziraphale was disappointed to find that Crawley was gone. He couldn't have been surprised, of course. He wouldn't have waited for an angel, especially not all night long. He was a demon. He would never wait for the one he tricked.  


_ Throughout the entire night, Aziraphale faced lectures from both Michael and Gabriel. Michael let their holy rage through with each word and glare until Aziraphale was shrinking down, unable to meet the gaze of either Archangel. It wasn’t until after Michael had stormed off that Gabriel spoke. He didn’t raise his voice; he didn’t need to.  _

_ “Aziraphale, that was extremely foolish of you.” _

_ “I know.” He said softly, staring at the ground.  _

_ “The other guardians of the gate noticed you were missing from your post. Imagine if they had found you here of all places, having been tempted by a demon.” _

_ “Tempted?” Aziraphale looked up at that. Surely, Crawley had meant  everything he said. He had seemed so genuine… _

_ Gabriel shook his head, a mysterious smile and chuckle sliding onto his face and into the air. “Let me guess. He seemed different from all the other demons you’ve heard about. He was gentle, kind, and perhaps cared about you. And then, he suggested trying…” Gabriel wrinkled his nose, “ that .”  _

_ When Aziraphale didn’t answer, Gabriel shook his head. “Classic temptation. It’s what they do. They’ll do anything to get you to fall to their wiles, even go as far as to suggest they can love.” He scoffed. “We all know that isn’t possible.”  _

_ “...Right.” The flower was dying inside of his chest, and he clenched his fists so he could try not think about it shriveling up inside. Crawley...Crawley  _ lied  _ to him. He had been so foolish!  _

_ “The demon Crawley is one of the best at his craft. He did bring the downfall of humanity, after all. Being tempted could have happened to anyone, but that’s no excuse to be on your guard in the future.”  _

_ “I hope I never see him again.” Aziraphale muttered, hoping Gabriel didn’t hear it.  _

_ “Oh, but I would hope the opposite.” Gabriel had, indeed, heard him. “Should you meet him again anytime before the War, you could prove to everyone that you won’t be tempted again, and the demon won’t escape the justice he so deserves.”  _

_ Aziraphale thought about that for a long moment. As exciting as that was (he was  supposed to thwart the wiles of Hell, and he could defend himself from such humiliation again), but why would he meet him again? “How would I, if I’m here? I hardly doubt he’ll return to the Garden after being forced out.”  _

_ Gabriel fixed a painful smile onto his face, lacking any sort of sincerity. “Yes, about that. You’re being reassigned.”  _

_ “Reassigned?” At that, Aziraphale did stand. Gabriel merely raised his eyebrows at him as he continued. “This...this won’t happen again.” _

_ “I know it won’t.”  _

_ He searched for an answer in the grass, but found none. “Who will replace me?” He asked finally. _

_ “No one. All of the guardians are being reassigned. The Garden is to be emptied at dawn, before it will disappear.”  _

_ “What? W-N...Not even the animals can stay? Who will protect them?” _

_ “Aziraphale, the animals can protect themselves. They’ll learn. They can’t stay here forever, and neither can we.” _

_ “But-” _

_ “We’ve spent long enough here. We have a deadline, and we’ve already wasted weeks out of 6,000 years. It’s time to move on.” _

Now, Aziraphale watched the animals pass through the large hole Crawley had left in his wall. He cannot meet the gaze of any of them, no matter how hard they pry for his attention. That dormant part in his chest ached but all he could do was stand guard until all of the animals had left the Garden, and like the humans, were becoming dots on the horizon. 

There was a pressure behind Aziraphale’s eyes he didn’t understand. He blinked hard, turning his back to the sun as he hoped to alleviate the pressure that came without pain. He would later learn of crying, of tears, of anguish, but for now he carried on as he began to pick up the rocks and rebuild the wall. 

The sun was hot on his back, so he couldn’t feel the warmth of an extra presence. In fact, he did not notice he was no longer alone until the last stone had been wedged back into place. 

“ **Aziraphale** ,” the angel turned at his name, and had to shield his gaze in the sight of the Almighty, “ **angel of the Eastern Gate.”**

“Yes, lord?” He called. Had She seen what had happened? Was he to receive further punishment for his foolishness? 

“ **Where is the flaming sword I gave you, Aziraphale, to guard the Gate of Eden?** ”

“Sword? Right.” Oh, the  _ sword _ ! With all that has happened, he had forgotten about it. 

She was still awaiting an explanation, and he stumbled for one. “Um...uh...big sharp cutty thing, yes.” He laughed nervously despite himself. “Uh…” He tried to search the ground around him, as if he would find it there. 

“Oh, must have, uh- must have put it down here somewhere.” He couldn’t bring himself to look up, so he rambled on. “Forget my own head next..”

But when he looked up, She was gone. He was alone, watching the desolate desert lay itself out in front of him. 

“Oh dear.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and thank you again for the kudos and comments! Feel free to let me know what you think in the comments!
> 
> I know I said this chapter would take a couple weeks but I had managed to find a little bit of time to write. However, I'm serious that I'm not sure what time I'll have to write this next chapter. This is my last week at work, and then next week I go back to school. Maybe I'll have a couple weeks where I don't have a lot going on to write, but once classes start, I'll probably only sit still long enough to sleep tbh. But hopefully this next one will be out soon, because we're joining Aziraphale and Crowley in Mesopotamia!


End file.
